


Hetalia One Shots

by DrownedTrying



Series: Hetalia Fics [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, NSFW, One Shot, Romance, Sad, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2019-10-24 20:55:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17711420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrownedTrying/pseuds/DrownedTrying
Summary: Feel free to suggest new characters!





	1. I Miss Yer Smile (Scotland x Reader)

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to suggest new characters!

_For my dear friend, Bubblesss. You're one of my best friends, and you deserve the best!_

The skies bled from blue, to purple, to red, then to orange as smoke bellows from his mouth, wafting gently to the heavens above. Scotland keeps his emerald eyes fixated on the clouds as he breathes in and breathes out. It was cold outside, but he didn’t mind it. He never did. Instead, the Scot found peace and tranquility in watching the clouds disappear at dusk, only to discover the twinkling of stars slowly but surely beginning to appear. The sky grows darker as he watches, the balls of gas seemingly pinning the inky darkness back before it collided with the earth.

“I wonder what yer doin’,” he mutters, lifting the lit cigarette to his mouth. She was all he could ever think about anymore, and it felt like forever since he had last laid eyes on her. “Do ye think of this lon’ly bastard?” The question goes unanswered, as does every question he throws into the air every night. “(Y/N), are ye happy?” Scotland falls quiet, staring blankly at the cigarette trapped between his pale fingers. He nods to himself, a forlorn smile etching itself across his face. “We will meet again, I be sure of it, even if I haveta search the whole fuckin’ world for ye.” The redhead knows he will wait until the end of time to have her in his arms once more. Until then, he can do nothing but breathe in, and breathe out.

* * *

One hundred years has gone by. One hundred years, and Scotland still hasn’t found her. He never stopped looking, and by fucking god, he never will, not until he finds her once more. The chances of finding his beloved once more are slim, but the country refuses to give up.

The redhead sucks in the smoke from his cigarette as he walks down the hall, his dark eyebrows twitching in annoyance. He doesn’t want to be at this stupid world meeting, especially if his annoying little brother was there.

“Alistair!” Oh, of course. Of fucking course the little blonde Brit would spot him immediately. Scotland continues to walk, not willing to converse with England. “Wait up, mate!”

“I don’ have time for yer shit, Arthur,” Scotland growls. He has shit to do, people to care for, younger brothers to ignore. After the last threat on his people, Scotland would much rather be back home, drinking whiskey as he listens to the waves crash into the rocks below his home. His younger brother jogs next to him, putting a hand on his arm, presumably to stop him in place. _”What.”_ Scotland snaps. England meets his brother’s angry gaze.

“Are you leaving?” he asks quietly. The older of the two rolls his eyes before continuing to walk away.

“No, I wouldn’t _dream_ of leavin’ my dear li’l brother ta face the fuckin’ world alone,” he snarks. “Of course I’m leavin’, ye stupid fuckin’ bastard! I don’ have time for this shit!”

“Now, just wait-” 

“No!” Scotland yells, effectively cutting his brother off as he turns to the blonde. England’s mouth snaps shut. “All I have e’er fuckin’ done is wait! I have waited for (Y/N) ta fuckin’ come back, but she isn’t! (Y/N) is _dead!_ She was nothin’ but a fuckin’ human, and she’s dead! I’m so fuckin’ tired of sittin’ around and waitin’ for ‘er ta come back to me! _I’m so fuckin’ tired of waitin’ for ta impossible!”_ England says nothing as he watches his older brother break down from a strong country to a sobbing mess. His brother, the strongest country he has ever known, is so weakened by the death of a human, and it’s all his fault.

“Scottie-”

“Don’t,” the redhead whispers. “Just… Don’t. I be tired, Arthur. I be so fuckin’ tired of waitin’ for nothin’. Absolutely nothin’.” Scotland leans against a wall and slides to the floor, his cigarette barely hanging from his fingers as he buries his head in his knees. He hates the burning tears that fall from his eyes, he hates being unable to breathe without a sob making his body tremble, he hates being alone. Scotland feels a presence seat themselves next to him.

“May I say something, Alistair?” England asks. His brother shrugs, unwilling to open his mouth. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. If I hadn’t asked you to aid me against Ivan, (Y/N) would be alive. I’m so sorry that I got her killed.”

“How is that s’pposed ta make me feel better?” Scotland grumbles.

“Please let me finish.” They fall quiet for a moment before England speaks up. “The meeting… We should go to it.”

“Thought ye were continuin’ what ye were sayin’,” the redhead mutters. England smiles, looking over at his brother.

“I was. The meeting is being held for an important reason. Somewhere in the middle of the Pacific, an underwater volcano has erupted. There was enough lava to form land, and in the last hundred years, life has begun to grow there. We were welcoming the new country. Her name’s Libertad. Antonio discovered her and gave her a name. She’s a real beauty.”

“And why should I care?” England chuckles.

“You’ll care. Now come on, she’s waiting for us.” It takes Scotland a moment before he’s able to breathe normally and to stand to his feet. His brother watches with a sad smile, but says nothing. Instead, he leads his brother back to the meeting hall, back to where the new country, _Libertad,_ waits.

“-and _that’s_ why I’m everyone’s hero!” America was boasting. Scotland rolls his eyes, already feeling a headache forming from the American. Either than or from crying. He places the cigarette back into his mouth, breathing in, and breathing out.

“Zer you are! What took you two so long?” France questions. England glances at the redhead before giving France a rare smile.

“We were just having a chat, just as any brother would,” he replies.

“Ve~! Scotland, come meet Libertad!” Italy says. Scotland looks over, his eyes widening. His cigarette falls from his mouth as he stares at Libertad. Her (H/C) hair was the same shade as his lover’s, and her (E/C) eyes shone brighter than any other pair. Libertad looks over and smiles at the Scot, not knowing how badly her smile makes his heart pound.

“Hello! You must be Scotland!” Jaysus, even her voice sounds the same. Everyone turns to smile at the redhead, some chuckling when he’s unable to answer the new country. England elbows him in the side.

“Oh! Ah, aye, I am. Ye must be Libertad,” he rushes. Libertad smiles more.

“Yes, that’s me. You can call me (Y/N)! That was the name I was given.” Scotland’s eyes flicker over to Spain’s. Spain smiles and nods slightly. “Pardon me for asking, but have we met before?” Scotland smiles at the new country.

“In a different life, perhaps. But fer now, let’s make our future bright as allies,” he says. The new country thinks for a moment before smiling widely.

“I’d love that! Thank you, Scotland!”

“Alistaire,” Scotland corrects. Libertad’s smile only grows.

“I like that… Alistaire…” she mutters, testing his name on her tongue. Scotland can only watch her with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes.

“Aye… I’ve missed yer smile.”

_End._


	2. Like The USSR In 1991, I'm Falling For You (Belarus x fem!Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Belarus x female! reader, requested by **MangaBitch.** I apologize for taking seven months to write it, but I've been super busy with school and finally had time (and the inspiration) to write it. I'll definitely write your Nyo!Greece next!
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used google translate for help with the translation, as I don't speak Belarusian, so please forgive me if you speak this beautiful language.

_”Get the hell out of here, you stupid whore!” You wince at her words, your grip on the bouquet of Flax tightening in your already strained grip. Natalya’s cold indigo eyes glare daggers at you as you stand on the doorstep. “Well?! I said get lost! Big Brother has no business with you!”_

_”I…” You trail off. The blonde was intimidating as it is, and you can feel your confidence dwindling away to nothing. All those lessons Alfred and Francis had given you were all for naught. Lost in your thoughts, you tense when you feel the freezing steel pressed against your throat. You looked up to see Natalya holding one of her trusted daggers._

_”Do not make me repeat myself a second time, сука [bitch],” she warns in a whisper. With the harsh cold wind surrounding you, as well as the pointed blade of Natalya’s dagger, you shiver even more, yet you don’t move a muscle. “Fine, have it your way.”_

_”Wait!” you cry out, taking a step back. The blade she swings misses your flesh by mere centimeters. “I’m not here for Ivan!” Natalya narrows her eyes at you._

_”Then who are you here for? My sister isn’t here, either,” she spits. You take a deep breath before handing over the blue flowers. Natalya glances down at them in confusion._

_”I came to see you,” you mutter, looking away. Your face could easily be mistaken for a tomato as you wait for her reaction. You wait, and you wait, and you wait, but none comes. Swallowing thickly, you dare to steal a glance at the Belrusian._

_Natalya’s staring at you with wide eyes, her cheeks painted in red, a shade that stands out against her pale skin. Her pretty pink lips are agape in what you assume to be shock. However, you aren’t sure if you’re wanted here, so you cast your gaze to stare at the icy cobblestone below you._

_”I just… You’re really beautiful, and I know you love your brother and that Toris wants your hand, but I just wanted to make my feelings known to you. You know so much about the world, things that are seen as useless by others, but it amazes me how perceptive you are about life in itself. You take great care of your knives and you’re incredible when you practice your acrobatic stunts. It’s like you’re flying and so carefree… I know I have no chance with you, but I wanted you to know how much you mean to me.” Natalya says nothing. Feeling your heart sink, you sigh and gently place the flowers at your feet before turning away. “I’m so sorry. I’ll leave you be,” you say. Natalya doesn’t even stop you as you carefully climb down the steps and into the freezing winter air._

* * *

_It wasn’t until later that night, right when you were about to go to sleep, that your phone vibrated, making you jump. You place a bookmark in your book to keep your page before closing said book to grab your phone. With one last glance at the book that had taken your thoughts off your failed confession, you unlock your phone and checked to see who would be trying to contact you at such a late hour._

_**-Unknown Number**_  
 _fine. one date. see you next friday at_ Kuhmistr _at 1300. do not be late._

_Eyes widening, you reread the text over and over, even going as far as pinching yourself to make sure you hadn’t actually fallen asleep while reading. You were both pleasantly surprised and terrified to know that you weren’t asleep at all._

_”Oh gods, please help me.”_

* * *

You stand in front of _Kuhmistr,_ waiting patiently for Natalya to arrive. It was a few minutes before one and you considered going in to reserve a table. The restaurant was lively, the patrons inside having a good time with one another, and from the smell of it, enjoying amazing food. Your stomach grumbled in protest but you ignored it. You had been so excited about the date, you completely forgot to eat, and sleep was out of the question.

The American and Frenchman were both excited for you, but warned you on many things. Don’t speak with your mouth full (a no brainer, really), compliment her appearance (you know that), keep your elbows off the table (did they think you were a child?), and most importantly, allow the lady to order what she wants (you’re a lady, you know all of this. What did men know, anyway?). Alfred, however, cautioned you not to comment on the facts of her brother. You have a gut feeling he speaks from experience.

“So, you actually showed up.” You jump, whirling around to see the blonde standing there. Instead of her usual attire, Natalya wore a blue silk blouse, black slacks, black high heels with little blue bows on the toes, and her long hair was curled and pulled away from her face with a matching blue bow. Her makeup was very minimal, but her mascara really made her indigo eyes appear lighter, almost a plum color.

“Wow…” you breathe. “You look amazing…” Natalya raises one of her brows, her cheeks dusted pink. She tries to hide her embarrassment with a scoff.

“What? I can clean up, you know,” she barks. You look up at her and smile. “Did you reserve a table?”

“Ah, no,” you admit, flushing softly. “I wanted you to pick since you’ve been here before.” Natalya opens the front door and enters, holding it open for you.

“Not once have I said that I’ve been here before.” You blink, following the blonde in.

“Oh! Sorry, it was rude of me to assume that,” you apologize. Natalya hums, looking for an empty table.

“Сардэчна запрашаем у Кухмістр. Колькі іх у вашай партыі? [Welcome to Kuhmistr. How many are in your party?]” the hostess says with a bright smile. You assumed she truly enjoyed working here, but looks can be deceiving.

“Усяго два. Я хацеў бы запытаць зацішны ўчастак [Just two. I would like to request a secluded spot],” Natalya responds. The hostess smiles more and grabs two menus. 

“Канешне. Прашу за мной. [Of course. Follow me, please.]” The two of you follow the hostess as she weaves between tables.

“What did she say?” you whisper to Natalya. The blonde side glances you with a smirk.

“How many people are in our party and where we’d like to sit. Some seclusion would be nice, yeah?” You nod with a smile. You marvel at the beauty of the restaurant before stopping at a small table by a window. It was far enough from other people so they don’t overhear your conversations, but it also wasn’t painstakingly obvious that the two of you wanted some privacy for your first date.

“Вось ваша меню. Хтосьці вернецца праз імгненне, каб атрымаць вашыя заказы [Here's your menu. Someone will return in a moment to get your orders],” the hostess says before leaving. You take a seat across the table from the Belarusian before taking a peak at the menu. There’s a problem, though.

“Uh, Natalya? I can’t speak Belarusian, much less read it,” you confess. Natalya gives you a look before taking your menu. She places it on the table and points to the drinks.

“Someone is coming back for our drink orders, so what is your normal beverage?” 

“(F/B),” you reply immediately. Natalya nods and takes a look herself. 

“I prefer krambambula,” she states.

“Krambambula?” you question. Her dark eyes flicker up to meet yours. 

“It’s an alcoholic drink,” Natalya explains. You nod, looking at the menu and characters you don’t recognize. While the pictures of food looked extremely appetizing, you had no idea what they were, much less what they were made of. You weren’t opposed to trying anything, but what to try? A waiter walks up to the table, a smile on his face and notepad in hand.

“Прывітанне, ці магу я атрымаць вашы напоі [Hey, may I get your drinks]?” he asks. Natalya looks up at him with a bored expression.

“У мяне будзе крамбамбула, і ў мяне будзе дата (f /d) [I'll get a Krambambulya, and my date will get (f / d).” You watch the Belarusian in awe, loving the way she carefully pronounces every word with careful dictation and grace, how her accent really shines as she speaks her native language. 

The waiter smiles and writes down the orders. “Я адразу вярнуся з вашымі напоямі і прыме ваш заказ [I'll be right back with your drinks and take your order].” He leaves without another word.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Staring? Who’s staring? Natalya meets your eyes and you feel your cheeks grow warm. She has a slight smile dancing on her lips as she rests her chin in her open palm.

“Ah, sorry,” you mumble, glancing away. Natalya chuckles softly, looking at the menu once more.

“These dishes are all delicious,” she says, breaking the silence, “but I’m afraid you won’t know what to order.” You nod, once again cursing your lack of knowledge of the Belarusian culture and lack of fluency in the Belarusian language. Natalya watches you with an amused smile. “How about this,” Natalya starts, “I order a dish, then we share it.”

“That sounds lovely! Very romantic,” you tease. Natalya chuckles again, something that she obviously doesn’t do often. She adverts her eyes to the menu, making it known she’s avoiding eye contact on purpose. “You should laugh more often. Your laugh is beautiful,” you compliment. The blonde looks up at you red faced and suddenly looking shy. You smile and fiddle with the hem of your blouse (okay, it’s the same blouse you used for your job interview, but it was the nicest blouse you had! Besides, you’d rather die than be caught in one of Francis’ shirts). “You also have a gorgeous smile. It’s hard to keep from looking at you.”

“(Y/N)...” she begins, but is interrupted by the waiter. He places the drinks on coasters before the two of you.

“Вы гатовыя зрабіць заказ [Are you ready to order]?”

“Так. Мы будзем дзяліцца мачанкай і верашчакам. Дзве лыжкі, калі ласка [Yes. We will share Machanka and vereshchaka. Two spoons, please],” Natalya tells him. The waiter writes down the order and makes his leave. 

It’s silent for a few minutes, neither of you quite knowing what to say. This is what you were afraid of. Were you beginning to appear too boring? Did you dress alright? Was your makeup smudged? What if you weren’t her type? Was she the bust kind of girl, or the type of girl who would oogle over someone’s ass? Were you even big enough in the bust area for her? What if-

“Thank you for the flowers.” Her words cut through your previous thoughts, making you look up in surprise. Natalya was smiling softly at you, albeit a little timidly. You almost forget to respond.

“You’re welcome! I, uh, I grew them myself,” you tell her. Natalya’s eyes widen.

“Really? It was the prettiest bouquet of flax I’ve ever seen! Not even Big Brother’s sunflowers could compare.” You go rigid at the mention of Ivan. This was not what you were wanting to hear. Natalya seems to not notice your easiness. “It was our sister who started in on him and those damn flowers, always painting them on abandoned buildings and in the house for him to find. Yellow isn’t even a nice color. It’s too bright and annoying and it’s a pain to look at.” She pauses her rant to take a sip of her drink. She sighs and gently sets down the glass, watching it forlornly. “I guess I was being too overprotective… He _is_ my big brother, but he deserves a life of his own, to find someone to call his. Do you understand what I’m saying?” You open your mouth to reply, but the waiter shows up with your food.

_Great timing,_ you think, but it’s without bitterness. You’re quite happy he showed up when he did. Your date looked like she needed the distraction.

“Смачна есці [Enjoy your meal]!” He leaves the two of you alone after that. Peering into the bowl, you realize that the main dish was a stew of some sort, but it smelled heavenly.

“Here, try some.” Natalya offers you a spoonful of the stew, but when you raise your hand you take the spoon from her, she pulls her hand away. “Let me,” she mumbles. Blushing, you open your mouth and let her move the spoon passed your lips. You swallow the stew, blinking.

“This is delicious!” you exclaim. Natalya grins widely and hands you the other spoon. 

“Let’s eat, мая дарагая [my dear].”

* * *

You walk down the snowy sidewalk with Natalya. Stomachs full, the two of you laugh and chat about whatever comes to mind. It was another five minutes before you made it to your hotel, so you were trying to make the best of the remainder of your date.

“May I ask you something?” you ask. Natalya looks over at you, an easy smile on her lips.

“Of course.”

“Why did you agree to go on a date with me?” Natalya seems to freeze, which is laughable due to the frosty weather, but you notice it wasn’t because of the low temperatures. It was between her thoughtful look and the fact you had reached the hotel much quicker than you had predicted.

It takes a moment for her to respond. “You know how I told you Big Brother deserves to have a life of his own, with someone he can call his own?” You swallow.

“Yeah, I remember.” Natalya goes silent once more, staring up at the dark clouds that threatened to release frozen droplets of water. You wait patiently for her response.

“He’s not the only one,” she finally says. Natalya looks at you, smiling. “I needed to move on and find someone as well.”

“Do you mean-” You’re cut off when her cold fingertips brush against each side of your jaw, her warm lips meeting yours. You gasp, but force yourself to relax into the kiss. The kiss itself lasted only a few seconds, but to you, it lasted an eternity. When Natalya pulls away, you’re breathless.

“Yeah,” she breathes, resting her forehead against yours as she holds you close, “I mean I’ve found someone.” Chuckling, she pulls out of the embrace and takes a step back. “I’ll see you for our date next week, right?”

“Yeah! Next week!” you grin. Natalya mirrors your grin before waving and walking away. Your American and French friends wouldn’t believe what just happened. You almost tripped up the stairs as you rush to your room, the kiss you shared with Natalya still lingering on your lips.

“Next week…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any requests, comment below! It can be SFW, NSFW, and anything in between!


	3. A/N: Warning

Hello, everyone! Unfortunately, this is not an update. Let's talk about something big called **_RESPECT._** To start off, I'm in college. I'm in college full time as a nursing student. I study eleven plus hours a day, not to mention I work and I struggle to maintain a healthy social life. I created my server so anyone who has a question can ask me directly. However, DEMANDING that I update or you'll come to my house with a weapon is UNACCEPTABLE.

Let me get one thing straight, because quite frankly, I'm beyond fucking pissed off. Today, I received a message saying that someone is threatening to come to my house with either eggs to egg my house, or to show up at my door with a baseball bat. First, this person threatens me, then they demand I update a fic. 

**NONE OF YOU TELL ME WHEN TO FUCKING UPDATE. YOU DO NOT TELL ME WHAT TO FUCKING DO AND EXPECT ME TO DROP EVERYTHING AND DO WHAT YOU FUCKING SAY, LIKE YOU'RE AN OWNER AND I'M SOME LITTLE BITCH YOU CAN ORDER TO SIT OR STAY OR BEG.**

If I receive another message containing a threat or demanding me to update a specific story, without fucking notice, I will delete that story. Do not test me. I am sick of this childish shit. Grow the fuck up and realize that I'm not going to take any of this bullshit.

Also, a HUGE THANK YOU to those of you who understand that I may not update for a long time due to my busy schedule. You guys are fucking awesome and I love chatting with each and every one of you! You guys are the reason why I write these stories, and when I update, I make sure to put out the best possible content that I can. I love each and every one of you, and I hope to talk to everyone more!

**Author's Note:**

> If you've enjoyed this chapter, please leave a comment, kudo, bookmark, and subscribe to get updates!


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